


The Golidilocks Phenomenon

by NellieOleson



Category: Stargate SG-1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NellieOleson/pseuds/NellieOleson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 8 Christmas fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golidilocks Phenomenon

The muted glow of holiday spirit illuminated Jack's front porch as he dug his keys out of his pocket and stomped the snow off his shoes. Jack took a closer look at the other houses on his street and saw that he was the only one on the block who hadn't put up lights. The front of his house was like a missing tooth in an otherwise perfect smile. A big old hillbilly gap of humbug.   
  
It was depressing. Christmas was one of the few holidays Jack actually liked. Even when he'd been in the field, he'd managed to string up a light or two for the holidays. Sitting on his ass in D.C. was a lot more time-consuming than he ever would have guessed. That and the limbo-like state of his life hadn't been very conducive to festiveness.   
  
He still had time. Christmas was five days away; maybe he could pay someone to come out and decorate the house. Then, in two weeks, he could pay them to come back and un-decorate. Such was his life. Jack took one last look around the neighborhood before stepping inside to hide from the world.  
  
He left his shoes by the front door to dry and headed straight for the kitchen. The coffee maker blinked at him, pleading with him to please set the time so it could make coffee on a schedule. Jack refused to acknowledge that he was living the sort of life that allowed him the luxury of a fixed coffee schedule, so he ignored it and grabbed a cold beer instead. He took his beer to the living room and sat down to surf his thirteen channels of shit. He made it through six of them before tossing the remote on the floor and deciding that his existence was officially pathetic.   
  
It was too early to go to bed, too late to catch a movie, and the snow would have reduced trolling the skies with his telescope to freezing his ass off for no reason. If he had any friends in D.C., he might have had some more options, but friends in a politically charged environment were hard to come by. At least he assumed they were. He hadn't actually tried to make any. Jack figured it was better to be alone and bored than surrounded by people he didn't like and miserable.   
  
He thought about calling Carter because he could do that now even if he didn't have a good reason. If they'd shared anything more than an almost-date and a handful of phone conversations that might have bordered on flirtatious, he would have tried to make some sort of holiday plans with her. He'd wanted to spend Christmas at his cabin for years, preferably with Carter, but he never managed to bring that particular fantasy to fruition. Maybe one day, she'd just make the arrangements herself.  
  
Jack stared out the front window until he couldn't stand it anymore, then he picked up the phone and dialed her home number. He let it ring long after he knew she wasn't going to answer, and hung up without leaving a message. Any message he would have come up with would likely have sounded desperate and unmanly. It never crossed his mind to wonder where she was. Carter kept odd and unpredictable hours.  
  
Snow was still falling, making the view from his living room look like a postcard on a drugstore display rack. Jack wasn't sure his driver would make it out to haul his ass back to the Pentagon. He'd call in the morning and tell the kid to stay home. There was no sense in him risking his life so Jack could shoot paper footballs into the trashcan.   
  
Jack gave up on trying to have a life and decided to take a shower and go to bed. Maybe he'd check his e-mail. Carter liked technology. She sent him lots of messages, mostly, Jack suspected, to keep him from feeling like he was an outsider on the team he built. The problem was, Jack _was_ an outsider now. He knew it. They knew it. There was no going back.  
  
The bathroom was still damp from the shower he'd taken that morning. Maybe he'd use his snow day to replace the exhaust fan. Jack tossed his clothes in the hamper and spent ten minutes sticking his hand into the shower to test the water temperature. He suspected the hot water pipes wrapped around the house three times before they got to his bathroom. As usual, he thought about Carter a lot while he showered. They really should be doing something together this year because, for the first time, they could. Sometimes he wondered why they bothered. Then he thought that maybe they weren't bothering at all and _that_ was the problem.  
  
The shower didn't do much to improve his life and Jack headed off to his bedroom to see what it had to offer. The lights were off, but even in the darkness he could tell that something was out of place.   
  
  
*******  
  
  
The weather outside was frightful and while the fire was not quite delightful, it _was_ finally making enough heat to be worth the effort of keeping it fed. Sam kicked her slippers off and leaned back on her elbows. Her toes were happy and she wiggled them inside her socks. The small pile of wood sitting on the floor didn't look like it was going to last until she went to bed. "I wish I had a gas fireplace," she said.  
  
Daniel looked down at her from the couch and yawned. The ice-covered roads had insisted that he camp out in her living room for the evening. He probably would have made it home without dying if they hadn't spent two hours trying not to lose too badly at ping-pong before leaving the mountain. Teal'c and Cam played like they spent all their free time practicing. Which they probably did.  
  
"No, you don't," said Daniel. "They don't crackle."   
  
Sam thought she could live without the crackling, mostly she just wanted the heat on her toes when the cold weather showed up. "Do you want to watch something?" she asked. Probably nothing on but Christmas specials but at least it would be a good excuse to make popcorn.  
  
"No," he said. Sam looked back at Daniel, he was lying on his back with his hands behind his head. He looked pretty comfortable. "This is nice."   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"No Christmas tree this year?"  
  
Sam automatically looked to the corner where she would have put a tree. The corner looked back at Sam like it knew her heart was three sizes too small. She sighed and looked away. The fire was a lot less judgmental. "I can't remember the last time I had a tree."  
  
"That's sad."  
  
"I know."  
  
Daniel was quiet for a while and Sam listened to the ice falling outside. The roads were going to be a mess in the morning. The lights flickered and Sam had a brief moment of optimism for her electrical service. It was short-lived and the room fell into darkness, giving the fire the opportunity to show off.    
  
The fire was bright enough see by, but since there was really nothing to look at, Daniel took his glasses off and tucked them under the couch. Sam made a note of that so she could remind him when he couldn't find them in the morning. "Is Jack staying in D.C. for Christmas?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know." But she should. Daniel clearly expected her to know more about Jack's plans than he did. And she wanted to, she really did, but they hadn't had much luck in moving their relationship forward.   
  
They'd almost managed a date the night before he flew to the East Coast but Vala had overheard their conversation and invited herself and the rest of SG-1 along for the fun. And it was fun, Sam was glad they all got the chance to celebrate together--and she did get to sit next to Jack in the crowded booth at the restaurant where his hand might have strayed to her thigh more than once.   
  
Sam had driven him to the airport the next day and they'd shared a goodbye kiss that had an IOU attached to it. So far, that moment of anonymity in the middle of a crowded airport was the culmination of whatever it was they'd been dancing around for the past four years. Some real alone time might be just what they needed.   
  
Daniel agreed. "You should call him and find out," he said.   
  
"Maybe I will," she said.   
  
Only she didn't.  
   
  
********  
  
  
Carter was curled up on his favorite side of the bed.  
  
Jack looked closer. She was wearing a Santa hat. It was an unexpected object to top off this unexpected event.  
  
She was sleeping hard, snoring, drool and all. She must have had a hard week. The thought made Jack jealous, he couldn't remember the last time he felt like he'd actually worked for his paycheck.  
  
Jack stared at her for a while because he wasn't sure what else to do. _Clothes._ He was still naked and it just wouldn't do to have her wake up to find him standing in the doorway with no clothes on gawking at her.  He stepped lightly to his dresser and dug out some boxers and a t-shirt. How did she pull this off? Jack didn't even know she knew where he lived. He pulled the t-shirt over his head and decided there was no good reason to care about the details anyway because she was there, and he could touch her, and suddenly his life felt a lot less pitiful.  
  
He slid in behind her, trying his best not to wake her. Although, it was tempting. He risked wrapping an arm around her and accidentally brushed her breasts. She stirred slightly and then settled closer to him. His hand was safely positioned on her stomach, and he managed to keep his erection mostly to himself as he fell asleep with his face in her hair.  
  
When Jack woke, he was on his stomach, confused and empty-handed. Carter was staring at him and he couldn't figure out why he had let go of her during the night. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. She looked a lot more alert than he felt, and she was still wearing that damn hat. "Good morning," she said.  
  
"Yes," Jack agreed. He rolled onto his side so he could get a better look at her. "It is." Too good, in fact. Jack began to wonder if he had some sort of terminal illness and she'd been sent to break the news. Gate-itis or something equally deadly.   
  
"I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here."  
  
How did she do that? Jack reached out and flicked the white pom-pom on the end of her hat, deciding not to ask about the Gate-itis. "I just figured I must have been really, really good this year." Last year had been pretty crappy. Santa owed him. This was good though, Jack figured they were even now. Hell, Santa might even be ahead. Having Carter in his bed made up for a lot.   
  
She cocked her head and the Santa hat flopped to the side. "Daniel thought so."  
  
Daniel? That didn't really fit with Jack's Santa fantasies. Unless Daniel had a side job. "Daniel told you to come out here and break into my house?" And into my bed, he wanted to add but didn't, because he didn't want to think about Daniel thinking about Carter in his bed.  
  
"I didn't break in," she said. "Your key was on top of the porch light."  
  
Of course it was. Just like it had been at the house in Colorado. Jack was a creature of habit. Most of them bad. "Keep it," he said. Giving Carter a key should have been the first thing he did when he got the place. Sometimes he was really stupid.   
  
Jack looked at his watch. If he didn't call in soon, his driver was going to show up at what he hoped would be a really bad time. Carter questioned him without saying anything. "I have to call the office," he told her.  
  
Carter excused herself to the bathroom so Jack could have some privacy to make up lies about why he was taking the day off. The call took longer than he expected and Carter didn't come back. Jack scooted over to her abandoned warm spot and stuck his face in the pillow she'd been using. He could get used to this.   
  
The sound of air rattling in his turn of the century plumbing echoed through the walls. Carter was taking a shower, which meant that Carter was naked and wet in his bathroom. Jack thought he could get used to that too.  
  
He groaned into the pillow before crawling out of bed. Nature was calling. Jack grabbed a pair of sweatpants and headed downstairs to pee. The first floor was always cold in the morning, and sometimes in the afternoon and evening too. That was something else he needed to investigate. Old houses were a lot of work.  
  
Jack stopped outside the bathroom door when he got back upstairs. Carter's Santa hat was hanging on the robe hook. He listened for a while and tried to think of a way to get inside. "Do you need a towel?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"No," she said. There was a long pause but Jack was still there to hear her when she spoke again. "Do you want to come in and wash my back?"  
  
 _Did she really say that?_   
  
His shower was loud, and his doors were solid and thick so it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she hadn't said what he'd heard. Much like it _was_ out of the realm of possibility that she was asking him to join her in the shower. He risked opening the door. "What did you say?"  
  
Carter's wet, soapy head looked out at him from the side of the curtain. Jack never wanted a glass shower door so badly in his life. "Don't make me ask twice," was all she said before disappearing.  
  
 _Seriously?_ Carter just flew to D.C., broke--let herself into his house, slept in his bed and now she was inviting him to shower with her?   
  
"How long do I have?" Jack started taking his clothes off before she could change her mind.   
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"This." He stepped in behind her and stared at her shoulders while she rinsed shampoo from her hair. Then, since she was in his shower of her own free will, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest. She put her hands over his and tipped her head back on his shoulder. "I'm dying," said Jack. "That's the only explanation I can come up with."  
  
Carter turned around to talk to him like they took showers together all the time. Jack felt like he'd stepped into a life that wasn't his. It wasn't like he'd never considered that this kind of thing would be in their future, he just thought they'd have time to work up to it. "Jesus, Carter," he said. "You need to warn me before you do that."  
  
Jack was too busy watching the soapsuds slide down her breasts to catch the exact moment her expression grew serious. "I'm sorry," she said. That got Jack's attention, and he looked up to her face. Her cheeks were flushed from more than the heat of the water. "I just thought we could skip all the awkward parts."  
  
Carter really was brilliant. They'd had a pretty good run of awkward over the years. Skipping straight to the comfortable intimacy might not be such a bad idea. Jack wrapped his hands around her hips and kissed her. "I think that's the best idea you've ever had," he said.   
  
He was close enough now that her breasts were touching his chest. She looked down and smiled. "Better than that time we flew an asteroid through the Earth?" she asked.  
  
"Yes." Jack paused so he could get his lips on the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder. "This is better than any idea anyone has ever had." Jack's hands were just getting around to her ass when she slid to her knees and made a liar out of him. Because _this_... this was an even better idea. Jack put a hand on the wall and had just enough brainpower left to say, "Looks like I was wrong."   
  
The water started getting cold entirely too soon and Jack decided the first chance he got, he was going to order the biggest water heater he could find. He gave Carter a hand up and turned off the shower. He would have just backed her up against the wall but the tiles were cold and the tub was slippery. A disastrous combination.   
  
Carter was pressed up tight against him, keeping his front half warm. Her breathing wasn't all that steady. "Bedroom?" she asked. The words tickled his neck. He opened the curtain and grabbed the towel. It was clean and dry. Apparently, Carter wasn't opposed to rooting through his linen closet.  
  
"Sure," Jack agreed. The bedroom was fine, so were the living room, kitchen, garage, and backyard shed as far as he was concerned.   
  
His bathroom was too small for the two of them to maneuver comfortably so Jack just ran the towel over his head and handed it to Carter. She seemed about as interested in drying off as he'd been. They were still mostly wet when she dragged him out of the bathroom.   
  
Jack grabbed her hat on the way out. "You're going to wear this, right?"


End file.
